


Behind Enemy Lines

by Arkada



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, FrostIron - Freeform, Loki catches feelings, M/M, Mentions of sexual slavery, Oral Sex, Ragnarok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 19:18:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14408817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arkada/pseuds/Arkada
Summary: Surviving on Sakaar involves several things Loki would rather not do, including whoring himself out to the Grandmaster.Having Tony Stark whore himself out to Loki, though? That’s the best thing that’s happened to him on this dump of a planet yet.





	Behind Enemy Lines

**Author's Note:**

> If I were Loki, I'd want to say I own Tony Stark too. Sadly, I don't own either of them or anything else in the MCU.

“Now, my dear, I’m sure you can try a _little_ harder- yes, that’s it, there you go…”

_Strangulation_ , Loki decided, swallowing around the Grandmaster’s cock and pushing down the urge to gag on it, throat aching. _Definitely strangulation. After I cut out your tongue and make you eat it._

Loki dipped his fingers into the bowl of oil for the fourth or fifth time, and returned his hand to its spot between the Grandmaster’s thighs, stroking whatever came within reach. _I’ll burn your balls off with a hot iron, first._ Loki rolled them delicately in his palm, fist closing to trace his nails along the veins. He was rewarded with a shudder and a moan rather than any prissy demands for _more_ or  _better_. The Grandmaster’s mood improved, Loki took the chance to pull off his cock just an inch, his free hand coming up to play around the base of it while he caught his breath. The air rasped in his abused throat almost worse than the cockhead had.

He’d done far more disgusting things in his life than whore himself for his own survival, but crouched half-naked and filthy at the feet of this madman, Loki couldn’t bring any of them to mind. He’d been _forced_ into all sorts of degradation, but to be the _author_ of it…

A displeased hum from above him signaled the Grandmaster was growing bored again. Loki shifted his hand further back and rubbed oil into his rim - not inside, Loki had endured a full minute of the shock-disc when he’d suggested that. _The Devil’s Anus indeed. I think a dagger would go up here quite well._ He grinned around his mouthful and laved the underside generously with his tongue. _Yes, s_ _omething nice and wide. Split you open and make you beg._

“Okay, okay, that’s…” The Grandmaster tangled his fingers in Loki’s hair and pulled him up. _And I’ll break every bone in your hands. One by one. That’s probably good for a few hours on its own._

Loki was making progress, at least; the Grandmaster’s eyes were far less focused than they had been when they started, his face flushed, and the sharp streak of blue on his lip completely ruined.

Loki dragged out a charming smile and waited to be used further.

“Jerk me off,” the Grandmaster said, and dropped his hand from Loki’s hair to press into his cheekbone. “I want it right _there._ ”

Loki allowed his smile to have teeth for just an instant before pushing it back towards something slavish and adoring. “Whatever you wish.”

More oil, and he curled his fingers around the Grandmaster’s cock. It wasn’t even attractive enough to soften the experience for Loki; the man was clearly all show and no substance. The intense grooming of his face did not extend here. Whatever was hidden from the view of his public clearly wasn’t worthy of his care. Not that Loki would have been proud of a cock like this one, either. While the head hit the back of his throat if he swallowed every inch, that was about all it was good for; Loki barely noticed when the Grandmaster fucked his ass. Its unimpressive size was not redeemed by any skill on its owner’s part.

But it answered to Loki’s attentions like any other cock, and he could feel the Grandmaster was drawing close. The leg he had thrown over Loki’s shoulder was trembling, heel digging into his back; a particularly sharp twist of Loki’s hand actually got him kicked. _I’ll have you walk on hot coals - no, acid - no, broken glass, you’ll feel that for longer._

A breathy gasp, and Loki moved into position to catch the spurt of hot seed on his cheek. His skin crawled with revulsion and the urge to wipe it clean. Survival instincts won out, just like they’d done the last three times tonight and dozens in the weeks prior. Loki settled the Grandmaster’s cock against his belly, and moved to rub his thighs with the long, soothing strokes he liked to prolong the afterglow.

The Grandmaster gave a long sigh, and flapped his hand to summon Loki closer. “Alright. I think I’ll keep you.”

Loki crawled up from his place on the floor as the Grandmaster shifted back from the mattress’s edge, settling himself in the center of the bed. Loki tucked himself beside him, chest-down, careful to conceal his complete lack of arousal. He didn’t want to see the Grandmaster’s reaction to _that_ insult. Fortunately, the man was the most selfish lover Loki had ever encountered, and had no interest in so much as touching Loki if it wasn’t to direct him in giving pleasure. He had no use for Loki’s cock and no desire to watch Loki find pleasure of his own. Loki had removed his tunic and unlaced his pants only when the Grandmaster had protested at being the most naked person in the room. Then he’d gotten distracted by something else and dropped his demand entirely.

“We’ll dispense with this, too,” the Grandmaster said, and flicked at the obedience disc on Loki’s neck. “You’re tamed, aren’t you?”

“Oh, entirely.”

“It doesn’t mean you can do just _anything_ you want! I’ll keep it close by. Don’t make me upset. You wouldn’t like me when I’m upset.”

Loki gave a carefree laugh, as if those discs weren’t objects of torment to rival Thanos’s. “I have no intention of doing anything of the sort.”

_I’m going to take your empire from you, make you suffer in every way I can think of, and have everyone on the planet watch. For a man like you, I know that’s the worst suffering imaginable._

The disc released its teeth from his flesh, and the Grandmaster brushed Loki’s hair away to retrieve it. Loki smiled false gratitude and ran a hand lightly down the Grandmaster’s side. “Most kind of you.”

The Grandmaster beamed at the ceiling with satisfaction so smug it turned even Loki’s stomach, and he’d spent a thousand years living with Thor. “I know I am. It’s such a burden, isn’t it, being so kind to people, but I - I just love what I do, you know? I love what we can create _together_. Everyone’s a part of Sakaar, that’s what being lost and found is all about! Everyone just needs to be a little bit… kinder to _me_ , and do what I want.”

“They don’t deserve you,” Loki murmured agreement, and caressed a wizened calf with his toes; the Grandmaster gave a happy little breath out and let his eyes fall closed. Loki could have killed him right now, if he hadn’t wanted to leave him alive to watch Loki take everything. Besides, Loki needed longer to ensure he could _hold_ the power once he’d grabbed it. Access codes to the vehicles and weaponry, the loyalty of a few key minions, assurance that this Champion the Grandmaster spoke so fondly of wouldn’t seek Loki’s death in revenge. No, it wouldn’t do to lose Sakaar the way he’d lost Asgard. Twice.

Not that keeping it would have done him any good once Hela had shown up, but still.

“Ooh, before I forget,” the Grandmaster said, rubbing his hands together in glee. “There’s a present waiting for you in your quarters. A _surprise_. You’re good to me, you’ve earned it. Take that-” he gestured to a folded piece of paper sitting amid the jars of scented oils, “and read it once you get there. No peeking!”

“Of course not.” Loki took the Grandmaster’s hands in his and pressed a kiss across the knuckles. “I wouldn’t dream of disobeying you.”

“Smart boy. Off you go.”

Loki bowed his head and withdrew, making himself do it slowly. The Grandmaster was gazing upwards idly - likely, lifting his head to watch Loki dress was simply too much effort - but it wasn’t exactly _wise_ to rush away as though Loki couldn’t bear the sight of him for another second. So Loki pulled his tunic back on, and then took the time to straighten himself out, tugging his clothes into line and combing his fingers through his hair. He gave a long, lingering glance back at the prone figure on the bed just in case he _was_ being watched, and slipped out quietly.

Loki itched to unfold the note in his hand and read it now, but the Grandmaster hadn’t made himself the emperor of an anarchy by being careless and ignorant. Loki hadn’t detected any methods of remote surveillance, but every person he passed was in the Grandmaster’s indenture. Best to wait until he couldn’t be seen, and the surest place for _that_ was his own quarters. They weren’t far, but he wasn’t looking forward to meeting the Grandmaster’s surprise unprepared. Equal odds it was some completely repulsive thing for him to wear next time he was summoned, or an assassination attempt.

~

It was neither.

Why did Loki have a man naked, bound, and kneeling in his bed?

He was an attractive man, at least, from what Loki could tell with his face buried in the pillow; muscled yet slender, dark haired, his body pleasantly proportioned. The Grandmaster was not usually so generous with his rewards. Doubtless there was a trap hidden somewhere here. Loki had no intention of falling victim to it by taking the dangled bait, pretty as the man was.

Or was the trap to get caught refusing the Grandmaster’s hospitality?

Damn him. Loki wasn’t used to having to work so hard to stay ahead of his enemies.

“Listen, if you’re just gonna stand there and stare, I’m more than okay with that, but would you shut the goddamn door? I can feel the draft like you would not _believe_.”

He knew that voice.

Why did Loki have _Tony Stark_ naked, bound, and kneeling in his bed?

Loki crossed the threshold and slid the door shut. That voice was definitely Stark’s, bold and brash and so perfectly confident it could only be hiding terror. Stark hadn’t seen Loki yet, his face still turned away; he had no idea who had arrived to claim him.

A fellow bedslave of the Grandmaster; Loki couldn’t find it within himself to drag this out cruelly. He came up to the bed and stood where Stark could see. “Better?”

Stark’s eyes snapped up to Loki’s own and his mouth fell open. He was silent for a few seconds before he managed, “Much. Thanks.”

How in the Realms had the man managed to go from swanning around Midgard to being held captive on Sakaar? From his expression, Stark seemed to be wondering much the same about Loki. Had Thor told his friends of Loki’s apparent death on Svartalfheim?

The mutual staring was growing uncomfortable. Loki stepped back and blissfully remembered the note in his hand, holding it up between them.

The Grandmaster’s inelegant scrawl read, _Teach him how I like it._

Well. _That_ was one of the more repulsive commands Loki had been given in his entire life. Earning the Grandmaster’s trust came with duties, it seemed. It was a clever way of ensuring Loki would not rebel; how could he object to his treatment when he had perpetrated the same on others? Guilt and conscience were powerful motivators for most. And what did it mean for Loki that he was being ordered to train his replacement? Was he losing favor despite every sign of the Grandmaster’s approval?

Seizing power from Odin had been much easier. Perhaps Loki should give up on this ambition to rule in his own right, and simply take the Grandmaster’s place just as he’d taken the Allfather’s?

Wear the Grandmaster’s vile image and slimy manner for his entire reign?

Loki’s stomach turned and he crumpled the paper in his hand before burning it to ash with a thought. That left him staring at Stark’s naked form again - the heavy cuffs cutting into his wrists where they were bound behind his back, the day’s stubble growing in around the lines of his beard… the lines of firm muscle beneath tanned skin…

Stark had always been too attractive for his own good. Back when they had first met, when Stark had fought Thor for the right to claim Loki and declared him _my stuff_ , Loki had barely resisted dropping from his perch and claiming Stark in return.

And now he was in Loki’s bed, face down and ass up, like a gift from the Norns.

Or the Grandmaster.

_Hel._

Stark was glaring back up at him. Loki sighed. “How did you get here?”

“ _Here_ as in your bed, or as in the literal garbage planet?”

Loki’s lips quirked. “The second one.”

“Uncuff me and I’ll tell you.”

Fair. Loki didn’t know how long Stark had been here, but it wasn’t a terribly comfortable position to be in for any length of time. Loki flicked the release switch and Stark’s cuffs fell open, letting him lower his arms to the bed with a groan. Loki went and found himself a chair while he waited for Stark to muster enough willpower to speak.

Stark also took the liberty of commandeering Loki’s sheets and wrapping himself in them, before sitting up against the headboard and stretching his legs out with a sigh of relief. Loki blinked, and kept his eyes on Stark’s face rather than the elegant lines of his bare calves.

“Right. So. Not that it’s any of your business, but a rather important quinjet disappeared about two years ago. I hadn’t had much luck in tracing it until lately. Turned out that the whole reason I couldn’t find the jet _wasn’t_ because I’d invented something so stealthy even I couldn’t track it down, but because it had gotten sucked into a _ridiculously_ stable wormhole, if it’s an Einstein-Rosen bridge then it’s one on steroids and I want a PhD just for encountering it. And there’s not just one of it! Have you _looked_ at the sky in this place? They’re all just _sitting_ there like somebody gave them permission to fuck up every theory about astrophysics ever published!”

Stark cleared his throat, and requisitioned the half-full cup of water on Loki’s nightstand, draining it in one gulp. “Anyway. I got a little bit too close and it sucked me in too. Crash-landed here, totaled yet another suit, and spent about a week finding a job that wasn’t likely to kill me in the next thirty seconds. That was maybe a month ago.”

It didn’t sound dissimilar to Loki’s own experience. “And now that you have, what next?”

Stark’s eyes narrowed. “Okay, you can’t expect me to answer that question honestly, can you? I’m sure our brief but intense acquaintance, plus whatever dirt Barton spilled on me, was enough for you to know that I don’t exactly take to captivity lying down. But you look like you’re doing pretty well for yourself - why does that not surprise me - so you can’t look favorably on escapees.”

Loki answered Stark’s frankness in kind, and pushed aside his hair to reveal the marks of the disc, gouges deep in his flesh and the half-healed burns from weeks of shocks. “Don’t be so sure.”

Stark’s eyebrows rose. “That looks like fun. Doesn’t match the rest of the ensemble, though. Tailored leather, nice boots, torture button? Whoever accessorized that snazzy outfit for you did a shit job of it.”

Loki shrugged and let his hair fall again. “We’re all the Grandmaster’s slaves here. What is that saying on your world? Some are just more equal than others.”

Stark’s face ran through a complicated play of emotions, starting with caution, then dismay, and ending up at a kind of _well, fuck it._ “In that case, I’m about _t_ _his_ close to escaping. I’ve earmarked a ship that can survive the trip, I’ve tracked the guards’ routines and stolen enough security codes to take it, I know which wormhole I came through and I hope to Christ on a motorcycle it will lead back. I just need somebody to take their eyes off me for three seconds so I can make a break for it. So here’s the deal, Goblin King: you take your eyes off me for three seconds, _after_ you’ve done anything you want with me. Oh, and-” Stark smirked, “I’ll throw in those security codes if you promise lube will be involved.”

Loki had not concealed his lust for Stark half so well as he’d thought. That, or Stark had spotted it easily because he felt the same. Looking into his eyes, energetic and focused, it wasn’t unsupported for Loki to be leaning towards the latter option.

Anything he wanted to do with Stark, in exchange for the most minimal of actions in aiding his escape from their common despised foe. Loki had never been so willing and eager to seal a deal.

But he really shouldn’t admit to that. He could point out Stark’s vulnerable position naked and locked in these rooms and completely unable to defend himself should Loki simply take him instead of trading. Stark would inevitably counter that Thor wouldn’t take kindly to Loki’s violation of his shield-brother. Loki could only counter _that_ by telling Stark that Thor was dead at their sister’s hand, and that would rather kill any enjoyment Loki might obtain from simply taking Stark up on his offer immediately.

What was a little more lost dignity between enemies turned tentative allies?

“I accept your proposition.”

“Fantastic. In that case, you might wanna know you’ve got a little something right…” Stark tapped a finger to his cheekbone.

_Damn_. Loki swiped at the spray of the Grandmaster’s seed, still wet, and grimaced at the reminder of the dried stains elsewhere and the bitter tang in his throat. “I need to bathe.”

“No shit.”

“How have you survived this long without someone cutting your tongue out?”

Stark shrugged. “Money. And luck. And the last couple years, I’ve usually been a little better armed than this.”

“And here you sit with no fortune in gold or chance, and not even a shred of armor.” Loki flicked a knife into his hand, just to watch Stark’s face blanch. “Luckily for you I’m fond of clever tongues.” He spun the knife through his fingers and concealed it again before standing. “Join me for that bath?”

That won him a grin from Stark, half relief at having his tongue intact, half pleasure at the invitation. “I _am_ already dressed for it.”

Loki’s bath chamber came with the privilege of heated water, if little else that he was accustomed to. The bath itself was small enough that it would barely fit the two of them comfortably, and didn’t come with a steam room or a waterfall or half as many soaps and lotions as Loki needed. But the bath filled quickly and the rest was certainly good enough to make the facilities the least appalling he’d ever experienced while imprisoned.

Stark was eyeing the selection of toiletries on offer, opening the little jars and sniffing at them, then sorting them into piles labelled _fine_ and _crap_ to judge by his muttering. Loki was indifferent to all of them after Asgard’s luxury; Stark’s choices would be sufficient.

He stripped every stitch of clothing from himself with visceral pleasure and dumped it on the floor before sinking straight into the bath. _Ah, yes._ The hot water easing the tension out of his muscles made him feel better already. He grabbed a rough washcloth and slipped below the water entirely to scrub the Grandmaster out of his skin.

He was raw and stinging and breathless by the time he came back up, but it had been infinitely worth it. _After I’ve broken his fingers, I’ll cut them off. Let’s see him paw all over me then._ The thought alone was enough to make him smile.

“So,” Stark said, hands full of his chosen products. He cocked his head and gestured at Loki’s cheek. Oh, if he dared mention that again… “Who’s responsible for the cumshot?”

Loki didn’t kill him on the spot only because it was too much effort to move. “If your escape fails, you’ll find out. _Intimately_. I’ve been instructed to train you for the Grandmaster’s bed. I don’t think you’ll enjoy it any more than I have.”

“The guy who looks like Elton John’s wardrobe threw up on Jeff Goldblum? Ugh. Good thing my escape plans never fail.”

Stark dumped the jars on the floor within reach of the bath, straightened, and in one motion shoved Loki’s sheets off himself. The body presented to Loki was a delightful blend of warrior and smith, Stark’s skin scarred by battle but his muscles shaped by hard labor and not the need to show off. The glowing circle that had crowned his chest when they’d met was gone now, replaced by a knotted swirl of part-healed tissue. His slavery hadn’t done any favors in keeping him presentable, his body hair growing a little wildly, but Loki could allow him that failing. Or throw him a razor and order him to fix it. And unlike the Grandmaster, _Stark’s_ cock was big enough to be worth the ride.

“You’re staring,” Stark informed him as he climbed in, seating himself beside Loki’s feet and extending his own to rest by Loki’s hip.

“You’re naked in my bath, having agreed to allow me to do anything I want with you,” Loki said. “Are you really going to complain that I’m staring?”

“When you put it that way… I sure am.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” Stark said, a grin spreading across his face.“I’m pretty sure I was promised a thorough ravishing by an alien prince. I’ll be damn disappointed if all you do is stare.”

He reached out and ran his hand down Loki’s leg. It was confident rather than dominant, firm and slow and clearly inviting more. His fingertips swirled around the bone of Loki’s ankle right at the end of the movement.

Loki couldn’t stop the breathy sigh that escaped him. Such a simple touch, and yet… When was the last time Loki had been touched like this? Touched with desire, with the intent to stir desire in Loki in return? Certainly not by the Grandmaster, and he’d never even thought of dishonoring his mother’s memory while playing the Allfather. Before that he’d spent a year in Asgard’s dungeons, and before _that_ he’d been Thanos’s prisoner since falling from the Bifrost…

His body shuddered from head to toe. He felt deprived. He felt _hungry_. He felt like if he went another moment without Stark he’d murder this entire planet.

Loki surged forwards to grab Stark by the arms, and haul him back into his lap. Water sloshed over the lip of the bath and splattered loudly across the floor. Stark laughed, and balanced himself with both hands on Loki’s shoulders, legs bent and tucked either side of Loki’s hips. “That’s more like it.”

“Kiss me.”

For once in his life, Stark shut up and obeyed an order. Loki’s eyes fell shut at the first warm exhale of Stark’s breath across his face, and then their lips met.

It was too rushed at first, Stark too forceful; Loki wrapped a hand around Stark’s neck to control the pace and slow him down. But deep, yes, making Loki’s head fall back as Stark pushed in. His lips were warm and slick, his beard a thrilling scrape on Loki’s skin. His tongue toyed with the seam of Loki’s mouth, and at Loki’s gasp for breath slipped straight inside. Stark’s pulse sped under Loki’s hand on his neck, and Loki could feel his own heart pounding in his chest. His other arm tightened around Stark’s back to hold him closer, their bodies flush from groin to chest. Stark’s tongue traced Loki’s teeth before dipping down to brush against Loki’s own; Loki pushed forward in response, and Stark pulled back completely with a soft chuckle.

“Been a while, has it?”

“I can still kill you anytime I like,” Loki reminded him.

“Not if I distract you like this, I bet,” Stark murmured, and slid a hand down Loki’s chest, between their stomachs, and wrapped his fingers around Loki’s cock.

Loki’s hips didn’t jerk up into Stark’s hand, but it was a near thing and aided by Stark’s weight on his thighs. The bathwater was hot but Stark’s hand was hotter, lined with rough callouses sending sparks up Loki’s spine. Stark was breathing nonsense into Loki’s ear, voice low and sensual, soft in a way Loki hadn’t heard in a long time.

“Ah!” Now Loki did jerk, a sudden twist of Stark’s hand drawing him inwards. His head fell to Stark’s shoulder and he saw no reason to move it again. He could hear Stark’s grin in his words as he kept going, switching between slow strokes and firm squeezes, a few more of those wicked twists pulling the pleasure higher.

Loki’s arm around Stark’s back slowly slid under the water, half-forgotten, until his fingers brushed curving flesh. Oh, yes, that was worth a little effort; Loki lowered both hands to cup Stark’s ass and massaged it a little. Yielding and pliant over firm muscle, far more rewarding to hold than the Grandmaster’s sagging disrepair. Stark hummed approval and swiveled his hips a little to settle back into Loki’s grip.

Rules, rules, before Stark got too carried away. Loki threw a hand up to grab Stark by the hair and hold him still, and dragged his head up to stare him in the eye.

“Here’s how this works,” Loki said, aiming for command and missing it by further than he cared to admit. Stark’s hand curled around his cock, even motionless, wasn’t helping. “I do not want to hear your _preferences_ , or _requests_ , or _suggestions_. You will tell me to stop anything you can’t bear and that’s it. No direction whatsoever. Do you understand?”

“Been given a few too many orders lately, huh?”

Loki tugged on his hair. “Do you understand?”

Stark rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, we’re good. I did say you could do whatever you wanted with me, and if what you want is me to keep my mouth shut - I mean, it’ll be a challenge, but trust me on this one: Tony Stark _never_ disappoints in bed.”

“Mm, bed. Excellent idea.” Loki wrapped his arms around Stark and hauled them both up and out of the bath. Stark shrieked and clutched him at the sudden movement, then shivered at the cold air on his wet skin. Loki dried them both with a flare of magic - Stark said “ _Oooh_ ,” in an interested voice - and took them to the bed.

Like the bath, it was tolerable at best. Severely underequipped with luxuries, but Loki had managed to make do. It would take their weight and that was good enough for the moment.

He laid Stark out like a feast to be devoured. Spread out and on display, pushing him back down when he tried to rise. “Stay.”

Blissful, silent obedience. Loki savored the moment - he could afford to, this time. Could start by going straight for Stark’s cock, or tease kisses down his neck. Could taste his skin or deny him his mouth completely. Could jerk him off hard and fast, or draw this out until Stark broke his promise and begged for what he wanted.

Choices, choices. _Freedom._

_And other lies_ , Loki huffed at himself. They were far from free, and enjoying Stark’s body did not get _Loki_ any closer to victory. But that didn’t mean it was a gift he would turn down.

Enough was enough. If he was tired of the Grandmaster’s direction, then he was truly exhausted of controlling himself. _Stark’s here. He’s yours. Just have him!_

He dropped to the bed, knees on either side of Stark, and fell upon the first thing he could reach: both hands in Stark’s hair and his mouth on Stark’s throat. The delicate structures shifted under Loki’s lips and tongue as Stark breathed, taut tendons and throbbing pulse and the column of his windpipe. He tasted of skin and clean sweat, still warm from the bath, with a hint of something distinctly not Asgardian. Loki sampled one place or another as the fancy struck him, a kiss to Stark’s jaw here, a bite to his flesh there. And true to his word, Stark kept quiet and allowed Loki whatever he wanted. He was clearly enjoying himself anyway, if the soft moans and hums of pleasure were anything to go by.

Stark’s hand fluttered up, then down again, as if unsure of his welcome. Loki pulled himself up a bare inch from Stark’s skin. “You can touch me. Just remember the rules.”

“No directions. Not even one,” Stark said, with far more weight than it deserved. Loki ignored him and started to work down his body.

He licked into the hollow of Stark’s throat, and Stark’s hands came up to sweep over Loki’s shoulders and back. It hit Loki just as strongly as the first of Stark’s caresses had; his touch left fire in its wake. His fingertips traced the jut of Loki’s shoulderblades, then climbed the ladder of his spine. Fingers combed through Loki’s hair, letting the strands fall down one by one, feather-light on Loki’s neck. Loki was shuddering with the intensity of it, after being denied for so long, almost too much to relax and enjoy it. He felt Stark’s throat work under his lips, then stop, as if he’d thought of something to say and then decided against it.

Clever man. Loki rewarded him with a slow stroke of his cock, just one, pulling a long groan out of him. Loki grinned and let him go.

Stark’s chest filled his hands quite nicely, all firm muscle over the pounding of his heart. Loki ran his thumbs down Stark’s sternum, the rough scar tissue contrasting with the smooth skin elsewhere. He dropped to mouth at the slightly softer flesh of Stark’s stomach; Stark squirmed, so delightfully helpless that Loki did it again, and then did it some more. Stark’s leg hooked itself over Loki’s hip, not so much to hold Loki in place as for Stark to brace himself. Loki ran a hand down Stark’s thigh, against the grain of the fine hair, and squeezed the curve of his ass.

For a mortal, this was quite a pleasant body. More than satisfactory - but really, it was Tony Stark’s mind that was his most impressive asset. Time to put it to the test.

Loki shifted, grabbed Stark with both hands and rolled them over in one swift move. Stark shouted surprise and caught his balance with both hands in the pillows.

Loki smirked at him, slapped his ass and then dropped his arms languidly to the bed. “Your turn.”

“Uh-huh.” Stark recovered his composure quickly, smirking right back. “Okay, let’s see here…"

Where Loki had started high, Stark started low, crawling down Loki’s body. His gaze heated Loki’s skin everywhere it fell, first his chest, then his stomach, the jut of his hips - Stark passed over his hardening cock to caress Loki’s calves with both hands, and Loki groaned frustration and pleasure in one.

“Oh, I liked that,” Stark murmured, and pressed a kiss to Loki’s thigh. “Just saying.”

Trust Stark to bend the rules, Loki should punish him…

The thought dissolved as Stark moved lower and kissed the top of Loki’s foot, then brought both thumbs up to rub at the sole. Loki all but melted into the sheets. Stark had strong hands for a mortal and he knew just how to use them, kneading out the old, built-up ache with workmanlike precision. Lines of painful bliss radiated up Loki's bones and met the arousal swirling in his cock.

Loki writhed as Stark started on his other foot. “Don’t you stop, you-”

“Calm down, Achilles,” Stark said. “I made a deal. I’m not going anywhere until you’re thoroughly fucked to bits.”

“Too bad,” Loki shot back, somehow short of breath, “because I think I’ll want you for at least a week.” He huffed a laugh. “I don’t recall you negotiating a time limit on this deal.”

Stark’s fingers dug in punishingly hard. “I will have zero problems with making a complaint about you to management, if that’s what it takes.”

Loki grinned. “Good move.”

“I mean, I’d _rather_ keep you to myself,” Stark said, and dropped his hands to the bed to prowl his way back up. “This is definitely the most fun I’ve ever had while held captive.”

“You know what?” It was a refreshing feeling, being honest when it couldn’t come back to hurt him. “I agree.”

Stark bit Loki’s hip gently. “Thought you might. Now, where to next?”

“You make better use of your mouth than asking presumptuous questions with it.” Yes, he wanted that clever tongue - but Loki had barely said it before he wanted more, head spinning - “Then fuck yourself on my cock. Hard and slow, draw it out. I want… I want you to feel it the whole flight back to Midgard.”

“Works for me,” Stark said, and just like that he tipped his head to the side and swallowed Loki’s cock down.

Loki’s breath poured out of him, and he brought a hand up to keep Stark _exactly_ where he was. Stark was proud and shameless, moving without hesitation. The movements of his tongue were simple, but clearly promised more pleasure to come; the tiniest, controlled graze of teeth proved he had the skill to give it.

Tony Stark, hero of Midgard, one of the brightest minds of his generation, and he was face-down in Loki’s lap sucking his cock. And by the hungry moans escaping him every time he stopped for breath, he was very much enjoying himself there. Loki wasn’t above flattery, especially not of a kind this delicious. He tightened his fingers in Stark’s hair. “Louder. Let me hear how much you like this.”

“Should’ve known you’d be into that,” Stark said, pulling up and replacing his mouth with his hand. Loki meant to rebuke him, but his touch felt so good he couldn’t bring himself to tell him to stop it, even to put his mouth back where it belonged.

“Thought about getting my hands on you for a while.” Stark grinned as he squeezed Loki’s cock and traced a circle around the head with his thumb. He caught a bead of fluid from the slit and bent down to lap it up. “Getting other things on you too, of course. Right about the moment you were coming at me in my penthouse, I wondered if I could seduce you into submission instead.”

His other hand had come up to play with Loki’s balls, everything whirling heat and pressure. “And sending you off in those chains and that muzzle? You just looked _more_ dangerous, not less. Felt like the only thing stopping you from killing all of us was that you’d gotten bored. I probably would have let you fuck me right there, if you’d asked.”

Loki savored  _that_ visual for a good, long moment.

“And _now_ …” Stark leaned in to lick a slow stripe up Loki’s cock, base to tip. Loki shuddered under the wave of it. He was completely hard and had no idea how long he’d been that way. “Now I’ve got a god on his back, desperate to be shown a good time, and coming to me for it. That would probably go to my head, if my ego wasn’t already big enough to need multiple timezones.”

“You haven’t seen me _desperate_ yet, Stark…” But he _did_ feel so good, after so long…

“Is that a hint I need to work harder? I think it is.”

Stark lowered his mouth back to Loki’s cock and this time he _sucked_ , as if he had no plans to come up for air any time soon. The hand cupping Loki’s balls kept working, Stark’s grip gentle and rolling, the rhythm strong but far too slow to really satisfy. Stark clearly didn’t intend to let Loki come early and ruin his list of demands for the night.

The bed shifted under Loki as Stark moved, getting his knees underneath him. Then he pulled up slowly from Loki’s cock, still sucking, lips a tight ring around it. He drew off completely with a lewd smack, and tossed his head, smirking.

“Don’t kill me if this doesn’t work. It’s been a while, but I think I’ve still got the knack.”

Loki snarled, half frustrated lust and half just frustration. “Damn you, you are _not_ to give me orders!”

“My apologies, your Imperial Highness,” Stark said, completely unrepentant. “Let me make that up to you.”

He stretched his neck out, balanced delicately, then dove in and swallowed Loki’s cock whole.

Loki's hips thrust up mindlessly, eyes rolled back so hard he saw white. Stark was fearless, taking Loki’s cock into his throat like it was nothing. He pressed down for every last inch, deeper and deeper, until his lips were almost crushed to the base. One deep breath in through his nose, one determined, deliberate suck that Loki felt vibrate through his entire being, and Stark opened his mouth and let Loki fall free again.

Stark coughed, and spoke in a rasp. “Yeah, that’s what you’re here for.”

“Get up here,” Loki demanded, wrapping a hand around Stark’s throat and stroking the line of it with his thumb, feeling the abused structures under the soft skin. Stark obeyed, crawling languidly up Loki’s body before settling his weight astride Loki’s hips. He tilted his chin back to expose more of his neck to Loki’s touch.

Loki slid his hand down, slowly, nails cutting across Stark’s throat before digging into the meat of his shoulder. “Ready for the rest?”

Stark rocked a little from side to side, brushing over Loki’s cock. “Well, I can tell _you_ are.”

Loki grinned, sharply. “Nervous?” He traced the nubs of Stark’s collarbones. “Bracing yourself for the onslaught?”

“Not exactly. See, here’s what I’m wondering: did you want those security codes, or not?”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “Dearly.”

“Then where’s my lube?”

The sheer audacity of it startled a laugh out of Loki, and he summoned a vial of his favorite oil without even making Stark beg for it. “As per our agreement.”

Stark plucked the vial from Loki’s fingers. “I suppose I don’t have a snowflake’s chance in hell that this is silicone-based?”

“I’m not trying to poison or injure you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Stark shrugged, uncapped the vial, and started to coat his fingers in the oil. “It wasn’t, but I’m both frightened and aroused that that’s the first place your mind went.”

Loki laughed, delighted. “As you should be. Oh, the things I would do with you if we had the time…” He was definitely keeping Stark. Whether the mortal left Sakaar or not, he belonged to Loki now.

“I’m sure you would.” Stark moved his hand behind his back, rose up a little on his knees, and took it beautifully as he shoved a finger straight inside. Like that, writhing and eager, he opened his eyes again and stared down at Loki. “And just for the record, if I do get stuck here, I’d actually really appreciate you requisitioning me from Head Office. You sound like you’d be open to a new deal, am I right?” Stark’s body jolted with the forceful introduction of a second finger, too hard and too soon but lovely to watch. “Am I?”

“It’s unwise of you to give me motivation to foil your escape,” Loki murmured, and ran both hands down Stark’s quivering thighs. “But I think you can safely trust that one way or another, I won’t be letting the Grandmaster near you.”

Stark grunted, hand working away between his cheeks. “Good enough. And besides, you’ve got plenty of motivation to keep helping me get away.”

“Oh?”

Stark grinned, pulled his fingers free, and planted both hands in the blankets to lean over Loki. “Name _one_ thing that’s going to piss off New York Fashion Week Reject more than losing a brand-new toy.”

It would, of course, be Loki and not Stark left behind to handle the pissed-off Grandmaster, but it could be worth it. “That will probably top the list of today’s annoyances, yes. But I expect it will mean nothing after I steal this planet from under him.”

“Ooh, nice,” Stark said, and straightened back up to slick Loki’s cock with some excess oil. “That is something I’d love to see, if I didn’t have places to be, like _anywhere but here_.”

Loki set his hands over Stark’s hips, and pulled him into position. “Then get on with your escape attempt.”

“Oh, yeah,” Stark said, as if he’d forgotten what he was here for. He flicked a hand out to hold Loki’s cock steady, spread his ass open with the other, and sank down.

Loki couldn’t tell who groaned louder. Stark was hot inside, tight, slippery with oil, and every second the sensations grew stronger as Stark pushed down. Stark had thrown his head back, chest heaving with his breaths, rocking his hips to take more of Loki in. Inch by inch he worked himself down, wrapping Loki in clenching muscle. His hands came back to Loki’s thighs to brace himself, fingertips digging in. Loki reached around to cup Stark’s ass in both hands, and urged him through the last few breaths of the descent.

He was a warm, solid weight across Loki’s hips, his cock a throbbing firebrand where it lay on Loki’s stomach. Stark let out a satisfied sigh as he took Loki’s cock to the hilt, and tossed his head with a grin. “You ready for this?”

His arrogance sparkled on Loki’s tongue like a fine wine. Loki squeezed Stark’s ass in encouragement. “Go on. Impress me.”

Stark didn’t warm up to it, or lead with another round of posturing - he surged forwards with a deep roll of his hips and _slammed_ back down. The dizzying wave of it was like hitting the surface of Sakaar all over again. Loki distantly remembered commanding Stark to go _slow_ , what felt like hours ago, but perhaps the mortal did have some tolerable ideas to contribute…

“Now _that_ is one hell of a look on you,” Stark said, and his fingertips were suddenly brushing Loki’s cheek. Loki’s eyes snapped back open, with no clue when he’d closed them. Stark was gazing down at him, expression somewhere between smug and fond. “Tell you what, all the shit I’ve been through on this planet - worth it just to do that to your face.”

Loki snarled, the full effect of it probably lost somewhere in the swirling storm of lust raging through his blood. “ _Stop talking_ and do it again.”

It had been so long, too long, since Loki had had this. All he could think about was how good Stark felt, how hot and slick and tight. Then Stark clenched down around him, and thought disappeared entirely. Loki’s head was spinning with ecstasy, his cock throbbing hard enough it almost hurt. Stark’s thighs worked to lift him up, a smooth drag of flesh along Loki’s cock, before he pushed himself back down. Somehow Loki’s hands had come to grip Stark’s hips, urging him onwards. Orgasm was building, swirling and insistent, in Loki’s belly - he wouldn’t last long, not after everything they’d done already.

Everything was _need_ and _more_ and _now_ , and Stark gave it to him, moving harder and faster and higher. Stark’s hipbones were digging into Loki’s hands from how tightly he was holding him. Another surge of lust hit Loki as he pictured Stark heading back to Midgard with Loki’s bruises under his clothes. They’d last for days, maybe weeks, on the mortal; Loki dug his fingers in just a little deeper.

The sound of them filled the room, mingled gasps for breath and the smack of Stark’s ass against Loki’s thighs. Stark was pushing Loki fast towards the edge, no holding back now. He wanted Loki to fall - was staring down at him with hungry eyes like he wanted nothing more - and Loki, gods help him-

Loki came with a cry, back arching like a drawn bow, every strand of pleasure in him snapping taut. Stark was a firebrand around Loki’s cock, still surging as he worked Loki over, drawing out every last drop of Loki’s seed. It was so good, every fresh wave through him, he never wanted it to stop…

“Don’t mind me,” Stark said absently, over the pounding of Loki’s heart in his ears, “just gonna take care of this…”

Loki slowly pulled his eyes open to see Stark above him, hand on his cock chasing his own release. He was a glorious sight, flushed and shining with sweat, muscles tensed, hair wild, every inch of him screaming _well-fucked_. Loki drank him in, the jerking of his hand, his clenched jaw, shoulders twisting as he moved. His little twitches around Loki’s softening cock were maddening. Loki peeled his hands off Stark’s hips to touch more of him, the lines of his chest and back, then lower, fingers dipping between his spread cheeks to rub at the ring of muscle where they were still joined.

“Yes, _Loki-_ ” Stark bucked into Loki’s touch, hand working faster, much faster. “Yeah, give it to - come on, I’m so close-”

Loki twisted his hand and shoved a finger into Stark alongside his cock, and just like that Stark came across Loki’s chest with a shout of Loki’s name. He was beautiful at his peak, head thrown back, chest heaving, hand finally falling away. He shuddered through a few strangled breaths, shoulders lowering as he eased down, slumping forward a little.

“Wow,” Stark said at last. “That was… How’d I do?”

Loki eased his finger out of Stark, his cock slipping free with it, and drew the mortal down to lean against his chest. It let Loki feel exactly how ruined Stark was, how much he’d ruined _himself_. That it resulted in Stark lying in the splashes of his own seed was just a small bonus.

Loki found himself pressing a kiss to Stark’s temple. “I’d say you fulfilled our bargain and more.”

“Excellent news,” Stark declared, with perhaps half as much energy as he’d wanted. Loki had clearly worn him out. “Guess I’ll be on my way. As soon as, you know, I can walk again.”

Loki had never been one for sentiment in bed - or anywhere else - but holding Stark in the afterglow was quite pleasant. It wasn’t every day an Avenger fucked themselves to pieces at Loki’s word; it was almost as satisfying as any of the rest of it. He might as well give himself this one last thing, before facing Sakaar, and the Grandmaster, again… Loki swallowed the thought, and busied his hands tracing Stark’s spine instead. “There’s no rush.”

“I don’t know, I think I need to get going before you say _fuck it_ and keep me here after all.”

“That is… not an unlikely possibility,” Loki admitted. Norns, he’d let Stark bring his guard _all_ the way down, hadn’t he?

“Thought it might be.” Inch by inch, Stark dragged himself away and crawled out of the bed. “I’m raiding your closet.”

Amusing as it was, imagining Stark escaping while completely naked… “Take the red one,” Loki said. “I never wear that, the Grandmaster won’t notice it’s gone.”

“Right…” Stark rifled his way through noisily until he found it. “Let’s leave aside how creepy it is that the evil overlord pays that much attention to your clothes, and just be grateful that red suits me.”

“That’s exactly what I was doing until you brought it up.”

“Wonderful.” Stark reappeared, dressed, in Loki’s line of sight; the was tunic belted a little tighter than it should have been and the pants were cuffed at the ankle a few times to shorten them, but nothing to draw too much attention. “Now, are you going to walk me to my car, or what?”

Loki drew himself up despite the protests of his body, aching for more rest. “You still owe me those access codes.”

Stark threw another outfit at Loki, which he just managed to catch. “Then let’s get going.”

~

Somehow Stark managed to shut himself up for long enough for them to make it to a deserted hangar a few minutes away from the main complex without getting caught. A few threads of magic to divert attention away from them had done the rest. Stark had typed the codes in slowly as they went, for Loki to memorize until the right moment came.

It couldn’t be soon enough. Stark had been an amusing distraction, but the reality was that Loki was gambling for rule of this planet with his life, with no allies to so much as watch his back. Anyone, from the lowest serf to Topaz herself, would kill him if they thought it would earn the Grandmaster’s favor. Loki was relatively safe for now only because he was the madman’s preferred cock-warmer, and displeasure rather than reward would come to whoever removed him.

“Cheer up, Emo Kylo Ren,” Stark said, and mock-punched Loki in the shoulder. “I give it like an eighty-eight percent chance that you’ll be giving this place what it deserves soon enough.”

“And the rest?”

Stark grimaced. “You’ll get caught betraying him first and gruesomely tortured while he mocks you for it. But _if_ that’s what happens, I reckon there’s good odds you’ll end up getting yourself out of it somehow.”

“Delightful fate.”

“Oh, please. You’re not the one about to ride through a wormhole with nothing but a godless prayer that it goes to Earth.”

“True.” Reminded, Loki offered Stark a hand up into his chosen ship. Stark accepted with an overplayed, swooning flutter of eyelashes and climbed aboard.

“Right,” Stark said, sticking his head half-out of the window as he strapped himself in and started poking at the controls. “Now, I won't get in the way of your planet-stealing ambitions, so I’m not going to offer you a ride with me. But, if you ever find your way to my neck of the woods on your own, hit me up and I’ll give you round two if you don’t murder anyone.”

Loki raised an eyebrow. It far from captured how surprised he felt. “I led an army of thousands against your world. Why would you welcome me back there?”

Stark shrugged. “And I sold weapons to a terrorist ring. After that, everybody’s earned a second chance from me. I feel like you’ll show up sooner or later, and if you’re destroying this ass instead of a city then that’s a win for everyone.”

Loki leaned closer. “Including you?”

“Oh, _especially_ me.” Stark flashed him a blinding grin, and pushed the window shut.

Loki stepped away as Stark fired up the engines and drove the ship forwards, and watched him clear the hangar and lift into the sky. It was only another minute or two before Stark hit the wormhole, and disappeared.

The protection spell Loki had threaded into Stark disappeared with him. Stark belonged to Loki now whether he knew it or not, and Loki didn’t like anyone other than himself breaking his things. The spell wasn’t much, couldn’t be without Loki close by to reinforce it, but it would keep Stark a little safer until Loki returned to claim him.

Another minute, and Loki could sense the faintest echo of the spell again, as it settled back into regular space. The lack of distress triggered in Stark told Loki he had made it to Midgard intact.

He spun on his heel and marched back towards the citadel, smugly satisfied. Stark had been right that sneaking him out from under the Grandmaster would be its own reward.

Not that the Grandmaster could ever find out that Loki had done that. He’d have to handle Stark’s absence quite carefully.

Or… perhaps not carefully at all.

~

“Now, tell me, beautiful, whatever happened to that human I gave you to train for me? You haven’t given him back yet, I do hope you’re not keeping him to yourself!"

Loki sighed over the rim of his glass, and angled his head in submission. “I wasn’t sure how to tell you this, but I am afraid I had to kill him. He tried to escape, and wouldn’t listen to reason. Unfortunately when I stopped him, he was somewhat more fragile than I expected. There wasn’t much left by the end.”

The Grandmaster frowned, but not so deeply that Loki couldn’t still play it to his advantage. “That’s disappointing, Loki, very disappointing.”

“He wasn’t your type,” Loki murmured, and leaned over to take the Grandmaster’s hand and kiss it. “Insubordinate. Stubborn. Couldn’t stop mouthing off if his life depended on it. And,” Loki lied, “he was a terrible fuck.”

“Oh.” The Grandmaster’s frown relaxed, and he turned his hand to pet Loki’s cheek. “Oh, well, it sounds like he would have ended up dead anyway.”

Loki smiled up at him. “Indeed.”

“Mmm, you know what I need instead? Apart from you, my lovely trophy twink?”

Loki kept smiling until it felt like his mouth would split at the seams. _That jibe will cost you an eye when I get my hands on you._

“I need something from the other end of the spectrum, so to speak - someone who’ll put up a little bit of a fight. A… hah, a contender, who can hold their own in the arena, for a while. Yes, that sounds nice.”

Loki fondly imagined Thor being dragged before the Grandmaster in slavers’ chains. Having Thor around would have been a refreshing change, at least, if he didn’t ruin every plan Loki had in motion. And if he weren’t dead. Loki would have quite liked ruling Sakaar with Thor at his side enforcing it.

“It does sound nice,” Loki agreed. “Don’t worry, my dear friend. Something interesting will come along.”

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is [here](http://ao3-arkada.tumblr.com/) if you like tumblrs.
> 
> Betaed by [Apples](http://appleslostherpassword.tumblr.com/) and [Haldane](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Haldane/pseuds/Haldane).


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